


Peredhel Vignettes

by Valaena_the_Historyteller1



Series: New Us [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28540671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valaena_the_Historyteller1/pseuds/Valaena_the_Historyteller1
Summary: Short histories about the peredhil in Adopted. First, Accarmo of the House of Finarfin, who didn´t want to be noticed. Second, Rátissë, who dreams to become a great chieftainess like her mother at the beginning and to be the voice of her people in front of the outside world later. Third, Muinafinwë, who just wants to keep himself and his sister alive enough to reunite with their father. Too bad she is as difficult as Fëanor in his teenage years.
Relationships: Aegnor | Ambaráto/Andreth | Saelind, Caranthir | Morifinwë/Haleth of the Haladin, Eärwen/Finarfin | Arafinwë, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel
Series: New Us [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824457
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

“My dear, come here”

Accarmo went obediently to his mother, the wisewoman Andreth, as she opened a book for him to read. The woman was not as young as she had once been, at least not as much as her husband and his brothers looked, with her grey hair and lines everywhere in her face, but that didn´t matter to her. Her son was still a child and she would fulfil her duties as a mother to give him education worthy of a prince.

The barely teen peredhel sat down by her, peeking at the book before starting to read. Quenya again? It was not his favourite subject, but it reminded him of his now late father, who used to talk to him in the language all the time. Now it was a way to keep his memory alive, both for his mother and him. And while he was reading, his mother would talk to him, make some corrections and congratulating him on his diction.

It was one of the last memories he had of her alive. 

The winter that followed that harvest season was harsh, too cold for some of the elder and the infirm. The Beörnings lost a lot of their population in it, including their beloved Andreth. She, feeling her life slipping from her grip, shaking and coughing, made one of the last decisions in her life to entrust the safety of her secret child to her secret husband´s brother, Finrod Felagund. The golden haired elf appeared one day in their house, following a letter the mother wrote, to pick up his nephew from the boy´s dying mother.

“I… I wish I could have been there more for you” the wisewoman said between coughs, holding her child´s hands.   
“My son, my dear golden child… take care of yourself… please”

“Mother… Amil, please, keep your strength. You need to recover” her half elven boy pleaded, not ready to let her go. 

“I´m sorry, my baby, I can´t last that long. I can´t… I can´t be with you…”

A few hours later, Andreth was dead and Accarmo was packed along with his uncle, ready to be moved to Nargothrond. He had never seen other elves in his life that were not his father or uncle and was in no way ready to live among them, but he had no other option now. They were a strange lot to him, who had only lived among edain. They never seemed to change or age like it happened to his mother and relatives, the children… when he was living among the Beörnings, he wondered why he seemed to grow up too slow, but in Nargothrond the question was why he was growing up so fast compared to others his own age. Besides, there he was a peculiarity for all the elves who were entrusted with the truth of his existence and a no one to those who weren´t. He, the unrecognized son of Aegnor and Andreth, secret scion of the House of Finarfin, was camouflaged as a servant by his uncle to avoid political troubles.

But he didn´t mind, really. It was a nice life. He didn´t have anything to ask for. Cousin Orodreth and his daughter didn´t like him very much, but otherwise than that… it was a nice life, as he said. At least until a Beörning like him entered Nargothrond. The son of his now dead cousin Barahir, Béren. He convinced uncle Finrod to go with him on a quest for a Silmaril, which his idiot uncle agreed on. Leaving him alone in the care of Orodreth and Finduilas, who mainly ignored him. Felagund even had the gall of dying when his nephew, barely grown, still needed him.

He lived, that was enough for him. And Béren Echarmion wasn´t the worst that happened to Nargothrond. Nor were Curufin and Celegorm, who in his opinion did a favour to many of their warriors. No, it was Túrin Turambar the one that ruined the live he had come to love. The young son of Aegnor never liked the man that would become a commander under his cousin Orodreth and thought an open war against the Vala of Darkness was utter madness, but no one listened to him. No matter how much he talked against the plan with his relatives, trying to make them listen to the warnings, to make them destroy the bridge… it was no use. And every time he found cousin Finduilas giggling at something the damn edain said, he knew why. Too bad he was the one right.

“Dragon!! The dragon is coming this way!!” someone screamed. Accarmo was tired, having covered the retreat of the survivors after the battle of the city. He and his troupe of survivors luckily took another route, different than the one Finduilas and other nobles took, because if it wasn´t like that... he didn´t even want to think about that.

“He is here to sack the city, not for us. The worm will leave us alone if he doesn´t see us and we leave it alone” he explained, remembering something he read in one of his mother´s books. “We need to leave now!!”

“Where to?” one of the servants he escaped with asked, cradling his trembling daughter in his arms. The young peredhel froze, not understanding why they were asking him. It was not as if he saved them or even took part in the battle, he simply left the city with them. And now he was participating into a heated debate, or more like frozen listening to it, about which way to take.

Where could they go? 

Well, the closest refuge he could think of was Doriath. He didn´t like the option too much, as King Thingol was said to be rather fond of Túrin Turambar. And he wasn´t much of the noldor either. But he had a good chance to make him accept them if he revealed himself a descendant of Finarfin, kin to the elf through his brother Olwë, and cousin of his heir through his Beörning roots. He could help them…

But as ever before, liking his anonymity too much, he stayed quiet. In the end, they split into two groups. One that would go to Doriath, another to Sirion. He followed the group directing themselves to Sirion, which in the end resulted being the correct decision, as Doriath fell to Feanorian swords not much later.

“What a stupidity, not renouncing to that stone as soon as it was asked by kinslayers” said Accarmo as soon as he heard about his cousin Dior´s death, when he was preparing to leave the city with a troupe of merchants, having found a good employment. He considered remaining in the city, as his cousin´s daughter Elwing was being moved there, but in the end he decided that no. Revealing himself as cousin to a Queen, not matter how little, would put a damper on his plans of a simple life. Better to remain a merchant´s assistant.

It was surprising, decades later, when he found out his decision of remaining hidden saved his life again when the Sack of Sirion happened when he was away on a trip. Really, he couldn´t believe his luck. Saved again by anonymity when so many heroes had died.

-Years later-

“High King Finarfin?” asked the boy, entering the tent where the Valinorean monarch, Eönwë and Gil Galad planned the assault to Angband that would put an end to the War of Wrath. He nearly fled when the powerful people in the room put their eyes on him, not wanting to be there. But, long time ago, he has promised his father that he would do something for him and he couldn´t fail.

“Yes?” Arafinwë looked at the young elf, who was wearing a long hooded cloak. He was also dressed rather simple, as a traveling merchant, with a thin sword on his hips. “One must remove his hairdress when addressing royalty, boy. Your commander should have told you that when he sent you here.”

“My… oh, no, I´m not… I´m not a soldier” the boy said nervously, as he removed his hood. Much to the surprise of the reunited powerful people, his hair had the same colour of gold as the king. He then removed something from his neck. “I… Prince Aegnor gave this to me before he died. He made me promise I would return it to his parents if I had the chance…”

“Oh… thank you, my child” the older elf said, receiving the medal. It was a simple golden thing, but very beloved for his son. A gift from his mother for the first begetting day he remembered. He wouldn´t have left it with anyone. “Excuse me, but you look a little young to have served with my son in the war he died in.”

“I was young” he turned, prepared to flee. A hand on his shoulder stopped him, turning him around. 

“Who are you, boy?” Finarfin asked softly, even if he already knew the answer. In that young face, despite the differences, he saw his son. His beloved Aikánaro, who apparently left something behind after all.

“I´m… Accarmo Agdar Aegnorion, my king” he answered, not wanting to lie to this people´s face. And what option he had? He was in front of a maia!!

Eyes widened and mouths opened when he finally revealed himself, as his grandfather embraced him as if he was Aegnor himself. Eönwë saw into his mind as the older blond wept into his shoulder, uncomfortably being comforted by Accarmo, only pronounce his claims to be truth. He was then, surprisingly, offered a seat inside the royal tent, only to be ignored by the older immortals as they talked about his life and future as if he wasn´t there.

“What I find surprising is that there is someone that lived in both Nargothrond and Sirion still alive and kicking. What a luck, cousin!!” Gil Galad said as he patted the peredhel´s back. This one looked down, not wanting to talk. “You should come to Lindon with me!! We surely need someone of your experience there!!”

“Of course not!!” Finarfin intervened, putting an arm around his grandson´s shoulders. “Before I sailed here, I promised my wife to bring back something of our children´s back. Artanis didn´t want to return without his husband and daughter and I had just found my grandson. He needs to come with me to Aman.”

“He would find himself save with me, grand uncle…”

“I don´t doubt that, but I would feel better if young Accarmo came to Tirion with me, nephew” the half-elven was then addressed by his grandfather. A grandfather that still scared him a bit. “Your grandmother will be so thrilled to meet you when this is over, indyo. I´m sure she will.”

“He should remain here, where he was born…”

“Nonsense! After the War, the Valar are recalling the elves back to Aman!! My ship will be one of the first to sail and my grandson should go with me…”

“Excuse me” Eönwë stopped the quarrelling elves, looking at the child as if he was an interesting specimen. He hadn´t told them yet, but he was instructed to give the Choice of the Peredhil to those in Beleriand, and this seemed like a good moment to offer it to the one present. “You can let him decide.”

“I… well…” he had never really thought about it. Not even in his wildest dreams did he thought that he would have the option of going to Aman. But then he remembered that his mother did talk about it in her agony, shortly after telling him that she wished she could be more with him. Andreth made him promise that if the opportunity surged, he would take it in a heartbeat, no matter what. “I will go to Aman with grandfather”

“Are you sure?” the maia asked as Finarfin put on a smile of triumph.

“Ye… Aye, hir nin… ehh… herunya? Sorry, I haven´t spoken in quenya for quite some time” Accarmo said with a blush. “I wish to go to Aman with my grandfather.”

“Then your Choice is obvious too” what? He wasn´t even aware that there was a choice too!! “From now on, Accarmo, son of Aegnor and Andreth, you are counted as one of the eldar.” 

He opened his mouth to protest, but was cut down by a hug from Finarfin.

“Oh, indyo, I´m so glad you decided to come with me” the older blond caressed him. “You are going to love Aman!! And the royal court of Tirion is somewhere great to live!!” the royal court? He was going to get sick. He has been all his life avoiding attention, why would he want to go somewhere all the eyes would be on him? “Artanis and your cousin Celebrian are remaining here and none of your uncles or cousins have come back yet. Not even your father, so I´m in the need of a provisional heir. I know it might be a little scary at the beginning, but you will get used to… Accarmo? Accarmo, are you alright?”

He was definitely going to get sick. Or he would until a horn sounded, signalling an attack. Finarfin trusted him against a knight´s chest, barking orders about keeping him safe. He thought if he should use this opportunity to escape and regain his anonymous life, but the knight didn´t leave him alone. When orcs penetrated the place he was in, he unsheathed his sword to protect himself. The battle ended up with the attackers dead, but he had a big gash on his arm, bleeding fast. Maybe… Maybe he wasn´t going to Aman after all. 

When he woke up, he was in a complete different tent along with other injured elves. His arm was bandaged and aching, but healthy enough, as he could see. A dark haired healer approached as soon as he noticed he was awake.

“You shouldn´t move that yet, cousin. The wound was poisoned, we barely managed to make the fever go down.”

“Co… cousin?” he asked, as he didn´t recognise this other elf.

“Aren´t you Prince Accarmo Aegnorion?”

“Yes” Accarmo sighed “You must have spoken to my grandfather then”

“Of course, I´m King Gil Galad´s herald, after all. Allow to introduce myself, I´m Elrond Maglorion… or Eärendilion, depending on who you ask” he rolled his eyes. “Let me tell you that I was interested in talking to you. When they told me there was another peredhel apart from me, my brother and my birth parents that was not in Mandos…”

“I´m hardly interesting, cousin”

“Really? Because someone who survived Nargothrond and Sirion didn´t seem like that to me” the brunette said, still hovering over him. Accarmo turned around, giving him his back. “Well then, cousin, I will let you rest. You will need it for the trip that is ahead of you.”

“What trip?”

“You weren´t told? High Kings Finarfin and Gil Galad along with their hosts were able to penetrate Angband´s defence yesterday. Soon the war will be over and the valinorean hosts will return to Aman.”

Aman. Yes, he said that he would go to Aman with his grandfather. He nearly banged his head against the bed when he remembered that. Well, maybe this won´t be so bad. It was going to be safer than Beleriand at this rate. And perhaps, if he got really lucky, he was going to be able to escape Arafinwë when they arrived. Yes, that sounded very plausible. Mayhap he would even be able to arrive in Valimar, where his tone of hair wasn´t so uncommon, and get a job there. Uhum, it sounded so plausible now… if there weren´t two knight now watching him for his haru.

“I know it will take a lot to get used to this, but you will” Finarfin said when he visited his grandson after the Fall of Angband, when he was more free. He looked so calm, as if he had not witnessed the damnation of his nephews and a big screaming match between Gil Galad and Elrond and Elros. If he didn´t know better, he would think the younger peredhil were going to kill the king for not saving their foster fathers. He still believed that. “Oh, I made the sailors put an extra bed on my cabin, so you can bunk with me during the trip. To get to know each other better. Isn´t that great?”

“Yes… yes” Accarmo answered, not knowing what else to say. He continued saying that until, much to his terror, the day of the final voyage came. King Gil Galad himself went to say farewell to them, along with Elrond, who still looked angry. Feanorianly angry.

“Thank you for aiding us in this, High King Finarfin” the kings shook hands. “And cousin, our time together has been short, but it was a pleasure to meet you. Hope your new life in Aman is full of light and happiness. Have this parting gift from my library” the raven passed him a book, Morgoth's Ring. The book that included the conversation between his uncle and mother. “I know that you have doubts, probably because of your mother and what she would have wanted. I hope to ease them by giving you a reminder of her.”

“Th… thank you, but…” no one listened to him, as ever, more than the first few words. He was then pushed to the ship gently by his grandfather and out of Beleriand. His destiny was now in the Blessed Lands.

-Days later-

“Earwën, dear, let me introduce you to our beloved Aikánaro´s son, Accarmo” Arafinwë, who hasn´t let his grandson out of his sight since they set off, presented the boy to his wife. The silver haired woman took his hand, making him feel nervous.

“I´m so glad to have something of my beloved son back” the queen smiled at him with a love he hasn´t seen since his mother died. “I welcome you, my dear grandson, in Tirion.”

Accarmo didn´t know what to answer. Or to do when he was practically dragged to the royal by his grandmother Earwën and great grandmother Indis, both desiring the role of guide to the young prince… who didn´t want to be a prince at all. The provisional heir that was the assigned role he was going to play for now either. He nearly cried the first time he was made to sit on one of the council meetings shortly after his arrival, praying for Námo to return his uncles and father soon.

The Valar must have heard his praying, because his uncle Finrod Felagund was released a few decades later. He was surprised to see Accarmo there, as he didn´t know about the choice of the peredhil, but then laughed and ruffled his nephew´s hair.

“Well done, little one” he said with pride. “You did well for yourself, keeping yourself and others alive under such duress. Your nostari would be proud of you too.”

He wasn´t so sure of that, at least not until his father was released and said it himself. The boy, for his part, thought he had done nothing for him to be prideful for, but took the compliment anyway. He was calmer now, after all. He finally had the anonymity he wished, practically banishing from the public life into the shadow of Aegnor. Now he could really enjoy his family without all the weight of being a member of the royal family. Or at least not much, as the son of a spare heir, as he still had to sit with his father in some events. Like this one.

“Why do we have to receive a Feanorian, atar?” he whispered, eager to return to his comfortable room, where his books waited. 

“Because we will have to deal with him as an ambassador. And, as royal family, we have to receive a politician in the correct way” Aegnor answered in a firm tone, keeping his son there. “Don´t worry, you won´t have to deal with him for mu…”

The prince was interrupted by the appearance of former High King Finwë, accompanied by an elf maiden of dark hair dressed in what seemed a Feanorian banner. With quite a bang, the peredhel known as Rátissë Caranthiriel made an entrance on their lives, stunning Accarmo. For the first time in his life, that boy who craved anonymity desired to stand out so he could impress the half elven girl with fire in her eyes. Too bad she hasn´t come here to be impressed.


	2. Chapter 2

Rátissë Halyth Caranthiriel of the Noldor and the Haladin was not a quiet, demure girl. Since she entered into the world, she did it loud and clear. Daughter of the chieftainess of her people and a prince of the House of Fëanor, she screamed as loud as she could in her birth, signalling her forceful personality. Despite being the younger of Haleth´s children, she picked a sword before her calmer brother. And developed faster as a warrior. She became the option, the heiress to her mother, who didn´t believe her brother was made to command… no offense to Moryo. He was just… even more of a bookworm and schoolar (even a spinster) than his own father. And little Issë commanded respect, even from older members of the tribe. Too bad her first life was so short.

She remembered the attack as if it was yesterday, the breach of Brethil that teared apart the peace they have constructed. Elu Thingol did nothing to help them, despite this being his lands, while they fought the orcs away. She saw as her mother was cut down, one side of her body being torn apart, bleeding fast, but this didn´t stop Haleth, she continued fighting even when she was on her knees, protecting her children… her daughter by her side and her son behind her, as little Issë grabbed a sword from one of their fallen escorts and moved it around the best she could with her little body. It was hard, but she managed to injury three enemies and even kill one before another took her down. She died drowning in her own blood, a slower death than her brother, who was just cleaved in two by an orc, but she didn´t repent. She went down like a Feanorian, fighting the enemy and with a sword in her hand. And she was proud of it.

The next thing she knew was that she was in a strange place, with an even stranger person greeting her, her brother and her mother. The man, introducing himself later as the Vala Námo, demanded that she and her brother needed to choose between their father and their mother. That they wouldn´t see one of them before Arda was unmade… her ire exploded in that moment.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO DEMAND SOMETHING LIKE THAT FROM US?!” Muino and Haleth winced when the girl´s anger exploded, her finger pointed menacingly towards the powerful being as if he was just another child. Even Mandos himself was dumbfounded by her actions… until he remembered who her grandfather was. And dammit, she was so much like him already. 

“It´s the Will of the Valar, young one, and you should obey. Look where disobeying our Dictates got your father” mentally the Ainur was making a list of reasons the female child should pick the Fate of Men. That should at least keep her well away from the law-abiding, good citizens of…

“You should pick the Fate of Elves” the mother crushed his dreams with a simple phrase. She was smiling at her children when she said this, as if it wasn´t condemning herself to not seeing them until the Second Music. 

“But, mamil…”

“Sweetie, I enjoyed you all the time for eleven marvellous years. They were too short for you. I know, as time doesn´t pass the same for elves and humans, that they were not enough for you” Haleth grabbed her children´s hands. “I want you two to have plentiful lives, to have as much as you want, to grow up and fell in love… if that´s what you want. Or to study something of your liking” she added when she saw the face of horror in her daughter´s face. “If, for you to have that, I have to renounce to you, so be it.”

Please, don´t do it, Námo pleaded, please, take the girl with you. I can stand the boy, but take the girl with you.

“Mamil…” Muino hugged her tightly. “I don´t want to leave you”

“I know sweetie” she hugged him back. “But we will have to say goodbye for now. It won´t be forever, I promise” Muino still cried and Rátissë looked indecisive. “My darlings… your father is still out there, trapped by something awful. And he hasn´t enjoyed you that much, not like I did. He… he is going to need you more than I do. You don´t want to leave him all alone? I can´t go to him, but you can… would you…” she stared at her daughter´s eyes specially. “would you take care of him for me?”

Please, don´t…

“Alright, mamil” the boy was the first one to answer. “I… I will take the Gift of Elves”

“Me too”

And, like that, Valinor was condemned. Or at least that was what Námo thought, because that little girl was a menace almost as big as her grandfather. Or had the potential to be. He barely managed to bid farewell to the mother´s spirit before starting to panic and plan something to get rid of her and her brother as soon as possible.

“Now, I think it´s better to give you accommodations” the Vala said, trying to dump the new problem on his maiar or someone else before this could get bad. “Now that I think about it, you have a grandmother and great grandfather here in Valinor, no? I can sent you to them, as children are usually released quickly…”

“Are you deaf? She said we had to take care of our father” Rátissë again ruined the poor Ainur´s plan. “And this is the place where we are most probably going to meet him again, so we are going to be waiting for him right here.”

“But you…”

“Sister…”

“RIGHT HERE!!” Muino, scared, got down to seat near his sister, wondering what he had done to deserve a sibling like her. Námo, scared too, called for one of his maiar, so they could put the problematic Feanorian and her baggage somewhere so he could nurse his headache. Or go to Lorien to ask his brother for a bottle of Yavanna´s wine. He also wondered if it would be too bad to write to Melkor and ask him for Eru´s sake to send Caranthir to his Halls soon so he can take care of his problematic brood.

Maybe he should stick her with her brother in Fëanor´s private room. And he would have done it… had her daddy not waited until Menegroth to finally kick the bucket. Talking about being late.

Well, before he could do that Manwë ordered him to prepare an especial punishment for the Feanorians and their father, which he obeyed despite knowing that this would also keep Rátissë in the Halls more time. The little girl was quickly becoming his Halls Nightamare. Soon, his maiar didn´t want to enter the space she and her brother were in, he had to tend to them alone. He was so tired of her by the fifth century that he went to Fëanor and offered help to finish their punishment earlier… something he shouldn’t have done, as Manwë scolded him later. Too bad, or luckily, Finwë was done with his first wife´s memory, all of it. Or so he thought.

Anyway, he was as feed up as a Valar could be with a bratty elfling by the time her family members were ready to leave his Halls. The little menace looked too pleased with herself as she passed in front of terrified maiar towards freedom, as if that was her goal all the time. And Námo didn´t care, as soon as she crossed the doors, she was Caranthir´s problem and by default Fëanor´s, which the smith kind of deserved.

“Oh, my dears” Nerdanel was kissing each of her sons except for Maglor (who she recovered alive after Elrond dragged him back to Aman). “Carnistir!!” she finally reached her fourth, who looked even more gloomy than his mother remembered. “My baby, why the…”

The doors opened dramatically and all elves took a step back. Fëanor stood his ground in front of his children. He had worked so much trying to get them back in to something resembling their past selves, he wasn´t going to let the Valar drag them into the Halls again!! Surprisingly, no one got dragged inside, but out came a very annoyed Námo with an elfling on each side.

“I believe this is yours” the Vala releasing the children. Rátissë immediately recognized her father and ran towards him, colliding with his body, as the man was frozen and in no way prepared to embrace her. She didn´t care, he was finally here. “They chose elvendom and didn´t want to leave without you. They are your problem now.”

The tired Ainur finally walked back to his domain, closing the door behind him. He finally had gotten rid of that brat…

“Rátissë? Muino?” Caranthir finally woke up, his hands finally encircling the little kids. “You… you…”

“Mamil says hello, by the way… or she did, before she had to go” the girl said, still hugging him tightly. “She also said that we had to take care of you, atar.”

“Haleth said that?”

“Yes, she did, atto” Muino finished with a nod.

“Ehhhh… Carnistir, dear” Nerdanel approached, the first one to recover from the shock of seeing two children embrace her son and call him their father. “Who are this children? Why were they waiting for you in Mandos?”

“Ah, well… they are my children, ammë” the looks he got from everyone around were dumbstruck, which was a little offensive. He pushed the children towards the copper haired woman, or at least tried, because they won´t let go of him. “The oldest is Muinafinwë and the girl is Rátissë.”

“Hello, little dears, I´m your haruni” the sculptress said, extending her hands towards her granddaughter. It was no secret that she had always wanted a daughter, but destiny was not on her side on that. It was not that she regretted her sons, but… couldn´t at least one be a daughter? Well, at least she got a granddaughter. “I´m so glad to see you here.”

“Ehhhh, Moryo” Maedhros took a step towards his brother and his children. “I don´t want to interrupt the pretty family reunion, but… where is their mother?” said elf´s face suddenly recovered it´s gloominess. “You married her, no?”

“Yes, I did” how could his brother even think he would act dishonourable towards a woman? Or to his children´s mother? “But she was an edaneth. She… must have passed beyond the circles of Arda by now.”

“Oh… I´m sorry, brother” no one knew what else to say after that and only looked at each other uncomfortably. Which was easy, considering they were a big family. “Emmmm, how about we go to the House to settle in? The children must want to eat too, no?” he kneeled down in front of Rátissë, who snuggled closer to her father. “Are you hungry, niece?”

Did he really need to ask? She was starving!! Why were they introducing her to thousands of relatives she surely had on Tirion? They had centuries for that!! Now she wanted to eat something after centuries of not having a body. And Nerdanel´s promise of sweets in her house for the children, she was more than willing to go to her grandparents´ house. She was so excited that she barely noticed Caranthir´s nervousness as they took the trip on the strange carriage that her adoptive cousin got for them. But she did… she did.

When they arrived at the house and ate, Nerdanel sent everyone to sleep, so they could recover strength or something like that. Her assigned bedroom was her father´s, as they hadn´t thought they would arrive, but before they even arrived to the bed chamber, the children heard a conversation between uncles Maedhros and Maglor about not being safe venturing out of the house alone. Not even to visit someone… who wanted him to visit? She didn´t got to hear, as Moryo ushered her inside. He started acting somewhat strange after that, as if… as if they were still on the Haladin camping, on Beleriand.

The answer came to her and Muino one morning, after waking up with thirst too early. The children went downstairs to find their favourite drink, a glass of milk, when they saw someone on their yard with suspicious looking packages on his arms. Not recognizing him as a servant, Rátissë did the first thing that came to her mind, throwing a cup at him. It knocked the elf out just before he threw an explosive on the house. But it was for nothing, other appeared and no one could stop this ellon when he threw arrows through the window. Her father freaked out and rushed back to his room with them on his arms. It took Muino hours and many of mother´s tricks to calm him down after. And that same afternoon, when Caranthir finally managed to sleep…

“Do you really think it´s necessary?” she stopped in the middle of the stairs when hearing her grandmother´s voice. She peeked out of her hiding spot, only to see Ambarussa hiding in the darkness near her, also listening carefully to their parents. 

“Yes, I… I know this is my fault and that I should be the only one to exile myself, but… there is no way they could have a calm life here. Or any kind of live, because the elves of the many cities they destroyed… that I made them destroy” Fëanor´s teeth were greeted so hard that the girl could hear them. “And Morifinwë has children now. The best solution is to… to move the family to Formenos. I know this was not what you wanted, I won´t prohibit you to visit them like I did back in the old times…”

“What visit? I will come with all of you” the copper haired woman answered, leaving her twin children dumbfounded. Nerdanel hadn´t wanted to come last time, why would she want to go with them now? “Did you really doubt it?”

“Well… you… you refused last time and I believed…”

“Fëanáro, I refused to come because I thought you were taking the mistaken path, not because I didn´t love you or our boys. I wanted you to rethink your actions and return to the right way. Not that it worked, but... you are and will ever be my one. And right now… right now you are trying to make the right thing, for all of our sakes. Of course I will come with you this time, even if that dreadful place doesn´t enthusiasm me” she rolled her eyes. “Guess a few statues will make it livelier.”

“Dreadful place?” he asked. “I tried to make it beautiful”

“Sure you did, honey, but you failed rather hardly” she smiled at him. “I will tell the servants to start packing. Maitimo wants to see someone before… guess I can get him out when I go out to get some things.”

“What? Why would you need to buy anything?”

“Darling, there are a lot of things we need for the moving, that place has been a ghost city for Ages” she rolled her ages. “And our grandchildren are going to need a lot of things we can´t get immediately.”

“For something people call you Nerdanel the Wise”

Rátissë didn´t need to listen to more. Her grandparents might call it a moving, but she knew the truth. They were fleeing. Her family, the Feanorians, were fleeing the capital to hide away in Formenos. And from idiot elves!! It took her a time to calm herself down, saying that there was nothing she could do, but… she wanted to. She wanted to so much.

In the end, leaving was not such a bad idea. She got the chance to have a good, normal, elvish childhood. And made many friends, including her cousins. Yes, it was better that way, she was happier than in that damn city. Besides, if they would have stayed in Tirion with all the people glaring daggers at them, she would have already joined their family´s collection of kinslayers or gotten them exiled. She was as fiery as that. Being in Formenos also let her learn that being a warrior wasn´t all about being a leader. A leader needed to deal with enemies in a non-violent way too, or it could end bad for everyone that followed him or her. Which meant she had to tame her fiery temper.

“You need to convince people to follow through something more than respect and fear” Fëanor instructed her one day in the library. When she told him she wanted to learn politics so one day be the voice of the exiled outside Formenos, he was dubious, but still taught her. It was better than letting her risk her neck. “And making alliances in court is essential, so you can´t go around pissing off people.”

“Well, I really doubt Elu Thingol will be willing to deal with me…”

“Rátissë, this is serious. If you are going to get out of here, you will be nearly alone. You need to learn enough to survive in a hostile world that won´t receive you well.”

“I´m trying, it´s just that… I´m picking my battles” the girl said, laying against her chair´s backrest. “I might be able to work with your extended family, namely Arafinwë, but both Thingol and Olwë might be a problem.”

“It´s good to pick up your battles, but you also have to know that you can´t go around insulting them either. Can be bad for you later. And for the people depending on you” her grandfather informed. “So, please, before you say or do something, think with a clear head, okay?”

“Right!”

Finwë came later, taking over her politics lesson after he got banished for his little rage show against Thingol. She frankly thought the Valar exaggerated on that, because, seriously, what parent wouldn´t be angry about his son getting poisoned? Give a poor old elf a rest. Anyway, it ended up being beneficial for her, as he was even more experienced at dealing with courtly live. She started to spend her afternoons with him.

“Why do you want to go to Tirion?” her great grandfather asked her one day during their shared tea. “You have a good life here, why abandoning it to go to a place where it´s going to be difficult to fit in?”

“Thought you wanted us there”

“That´s another thing. I wanted you all there, as a family, you want to go alone. Why risking everything like that?”

“Because they need to accept that we have changed” she said. “My father, my uncles, their followers… they have all put a lot of themselves into showing the world that they are not the same people who waged war against their own back in Beleriand. But people outside refuse to accept them” she sighed. “It´s not that I blame them, but… we can put a little effort into forgiving. Or at least Thingol should stop sending assassins here.”

“On that, we are on the same page” Finwë crossed her arms. “What happened is not your fault, do you know that?”

“Of course, I never kinslayed or murder anyone… that was not an orc, that´s it.”

“Oh, I… get it. You had to defend yourself” the older elf smiled nervously. “Should we continue?”

-Years later, in Tirion-

“Greetings, my lady. I´m Luindir, the court painter, and came here to make the portrait you commissioned” an elf said, clearly nervous for stepping a foot into the Feanorian mannor. Unfortunately, this was a commission by Queen Earwën too, who wanted to be friendly to her young relative, the ambassador of Formenos. He couldn´t reject it.

“Of course, I will be ready for it in a few minutes” Rátissë answered sweetly, getting to her room to change her training clothing for her father´s dress. 

Because yes, she was going to get a portrait in all reds and golds. And then hang it where all the visitors could see, right in the middle of her living room. Hey, she may be a politician, but she was still a Feanorian and proud of it. She went down as one once, she was determinate to go down in history as one too. 

“I´m ready” the poor artist nearly suffered a heart attack at seeing her with a dress that could very well be a female version of the clothing Fëanáro himself wore on the First Age. And during his most infamous deeds. “Begin when you are”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the fiery Rátissë appears!! Well, you might say that showing her heritage so clearly might not be a good political move, but come on, she is proud of it despite the kinslayings and just wants to show it. Inside of her own house, where her word is rule. Besides, I kind of wrote this chapter hearing the song "Get Down" from the musical Six, which actually fits with Rátissë´s personality. Don´t you think so? Review!!


	3. Chapter 3

Muinafinwë Haldar Caranthirion didn´t hate his sister. Really, he didn´t!! He loved her a lot, but… her attitude had been the source of so many headaches that he would be relieved when she left. And he wouldn´t lie if he said he didn´t admire her a bit, because he did. She had the strength to pursue her dreams while he… he just wanted to follow the flow. Or he didn´t consider himself strong enough to do anything else.

Muino had been a quiet child since infancy, so much that his mother worried for him a lot. Caranthir soothed her worries, telling her that Curufin and his father had both been quiet children early in life… before their famous fiery temper came. Anyway, Muino wasn´t looking forward to having a little sibling, but accepted Rátissë as she was. Even when Haleth started to wonder if the provisional heir to Haldan and her own should be her youngest child and not the oldest. And, to be frank, he couldn´t blame her. He didn´t command much respect, preferring to quietly work with Moryo in his stiches and mathematics than fight or listen to the elders in the command tent.  
His sister was also great at getting herself into trouble… and getting herself out, be it by talking or by violence. Personally, she preferred violence. Personally, he preferred when she talked her way out. Why? Because, after she finished with her beating, someone had to nurse the ego and possibly injuries of her latest victim. When was she going to learn that some teenage edain didn´t take well being beaten by a pint sized, pointy eared girl? But, as the good brother he was, Muino was the one that swallowed his pride and went to undo whatever the menace of his sibling had done so the other kids would leave it like that. He ended up doing that so much that he got really good at damage control… Rátissë´s or something else´s.

Well, that was at least when he was first alive. The orc ambush occurred and Haleth was killed. The little boy froze when his mother went to her knees, not knowing what to do. His sister did, of course, picking up the weapon Muino couldn´t because of his state. She went down like a warrior, one that would make their father proud… he wouldn´t. He was the boy that idiotically got himself killed by remaining still as a statue during an attack. So much for being the son of a Feanorion.

And then came the problem with the Choice and Mandos and his sister being his sister and pointing a daring finger at a bloody Vala… did she had a death wish or what? Guess not dead, because they already were, but surely Námo could do something worse to them. Humm, at least he had experience with brats of the Finwean class.

“I´m sorry for her attitude” he apologized in behalf of his sister, hoping that would be enough to make the Vala rethink his opinion of them. “She can be a little difficult sometimes. And we just lost our mother until Arda is remade. That makes it even worse, hope you understand.”

“I know what is like to have difficult guests in my home, I have had a few” he sighed. “Glad to see you are not the same.”

“Well…” the boy felt a little bit better. “Thank you for understanding why she is behaving like that. I don´t know how she ended up like this…”

“She gets that from her grandfather” the Doomsman felt the need to roll his eyes. “A brat begets a brat, I guess. Or the brat´s son begets a brat almost as big as the father. Let´s hope she has more common sense than him.”

“Our father… is he here?”

“Not yet, but he will be. And, with the life he has chosen, it will be soon” the Vala turned around to leave the place before the female can be rude again. It would be bad from him, he reminded, to stuck a (sadly innocent) little girl with Fëanor just because she was pissing him off.

Muino sighed and returned to do damage control, comforting the maiar that run out of the room in fright, trying to escape Rátissë. Years turned into decades, decades to centuries, then millennia and ages, until he started to wonder if they would ever be out. If they would ever see their father again. That´s why he was surprised when he was finally let go. He couldn´t believe it when he was out, his family was so big!! Not even his sister would reject this. And life… life was going to be a little bit different from before, as ammë was not there, but it was going to be good. 

His balloon was blown a few days later. Maybe he should have caught that sooner, like Rátissë did, but he was not his smart conscious sister. He was the reclusive boy that wouldn´t caught on anything if it was not explained to him. And then he will do damage control, the only thing he was good at besides sewing and summing. Like the day he was woken up by her slipping out of bed when their atar was still sleeping, deciding to follow her after a few minutes. He found her in the kitchen, looking at the garden with seriousness.

“Issë, what did you do?”

“I threw a cup” she informed, knowing that her brother would know what to do to keep the sanity of everyone in the house. “Think it hit an elf in the head back there.”

“Really?” why would his sister hit a servant with the cup. “Was he one of the gardeners? Should we go and apologize before atto or haruni knows that you knocked out one of their workers?”

“It was no servant” she grabbed his hands, walking him to the place where the elf was lying, the explosive near him. Luckily it was not lighted or the idiot would be dead already and they all convicted for kinslaying again. Would the Valar understand it was an accident? He wasn´t sure, so… “What do we do now?”

“First, you will go back to the kitchen and get us some milk” no need to freak out all the people in the house, not after they had gone through so much. “I will fix it.”

So, for the first time, Muino found himself having to get rid of a body. Or something like that, because the elf wasn´t dead. He, of course, disposed of the explosive discreetly, then tied up and silenced the elf, so when he woke no one would detect his presence. After that, calmly, he returned to his sister´s side, right in time for Caranthir to find them drinking milk. The Feanorian believed their tale and took them back to his room, but later Muino managed to escape his paranoid father to go back to his prisoner.

“For starters, I´m sorry this happened to you. Well, not much, considering what you wanted to do” he said, passing in front of the terrified sinda. He raised an eyebrow, how could an adult be afraid of an elfling? He was a Feanorian, but not that scary. “But we have reached an impairment here” he played with a knife while doing so. It was a plaything, a wooden one, couldn´t that idiot see that? “I can´t kinslay and you attempted to. If the Valar were to know, the condemned one would be…”

“HUMMMMMMMMMM!!!!”

“As I was saying, the condemned one would be you” Muino ignored the last part, as he toyed with his toy as the child he was. “They will only need to see my sister´s and mine´s memories, you would be condemned to Mandos for a few ages, much like us.”

“HUMMMM!!!!”

“But that doesn´t have to happen” he finished with his speech. “Not if we reach an agreement that keeps both parties contented and we part in an amicable way. Now, I really wish to reach this agreement, because the option would be less than pleasurable for both of us, so… are you willing to negotiate with me?”

He really hoped so, because he was not ready to threaten or exact physical violence on someone else. Let alone an adult. But anyway, it was what he needed to do, to keep his family save. It was part of the damage control of the kinslayings, now that they were back in Tirion. At least this first elf was smart and glad to negotiate with him. He left and never came back. With his job done, Muino returned to the house, glad that it has been easy…

Too bad that the things with the Feanorians were never easy. 

Next thing that happened was someone throwing arrows through the windows, scaring Caranthir and sending the entire family to Formenos. It wasn´t so bad, the place was a little bit gloomy and had Walls that didn´t allow him to see the sunset from his balcony, but not entirely horrible. Rátissë loved it, which made her easier to control. And with less damage control to do, her brother had time to dedicate to his personal hobbies, hoping to get as good as their father.

Then the attempted kinslaying on the woods happened. Of course, the adults were handling it, but Muino still feel the need to make things easier for them, so he went down towards the deeps of his grandparent´s house, where the dungeons were. There he found the sinda that almost hurt the Sons of Fëanor…

“So, this is how far the Court of Doriath has Fallen” he said, sitting down in front of one of the cells. It contained a woman, who he quickly recognized as the leader of the party. “Attempted kinslaying? And of children? I didn´t know the fabled King Elwë would sink so low as to order the assassination of a friend´s family for something that happened ages ago.”

“You know nothing, kinslayer brat” she spat, grabbing the bar. “I´m going to kill you…”

“I would believe you, if you weren´t on the wrong side of the bars” he continued. “They say you wanted to kill us too. Me and my sister… because of the kinslaying.”

“You would never know the pain…”

“I lost my mother on an orc raid and then in the Halls of Mandos, forever. Don´t talk to me about losing something when your loved ones were returned and mine not” the boy placed his hands on his lap. “You sinda killed my father in Menegroth. As you said, that would entitle me to kill you all and even order the same done to King Elwë. Is that what you want?”

“No, but… kinslayers have to pay. They have to pay with blood the blood they spilled in Doriath” Forvenien continued, using the bars to lift herself from the ground.

“Violence will only cause more violence. The point of damage control is trying to avoid it, specially in a situation like this one” he didn´t move. “Consider it before you do something that will rip you from your loved ones forever.”

“You know nothing about me, brat, your threats won´t work” she showed her teeth. “Disappear from my view before I send you where you should have never gone out.”

“Oh, it´s not a threat. And if I wanted to hurt you, I would have sent my sister. She is more willing to do whatever it takes” he smiled sadly. “I, on the other side, only want to make sure the peace is kept in this island.”

“Do you really think that asking pretty please or forgiveness is going to solve anything? To make us forget all the blood that was spilled by your kind?!”

“No, but it´s a beginning” he put a basket of fruit in front of the cell of her companions, but not hers. “Making everybody forgive the Feanorians for what they did is not my job or my goal. Like I said, I only want to do damage control in best way that´s possible… but I´m not above letting you rot here for a few millennia if it is what is needed for you to consider a negotiation.”

“Negotiation?” one of the subordinates asked. 

“Yes, negotiation. What do you want that aligns with our own demands to leave us alone? If it´s fruitful, we can even let you return to Doriath” to tell Thingol to stop sending assassins towards them, that´s it. “Think about it. I would return when I can.”

“And when will that be?”

“When I can.”

-Years later-

“Is she really asking for something like this?” Muino asked as he helped Caranthir to weave some orange threat into fabric. He couldn´t help but marvel at the quality of the resulting thing, with different tones of the colour and an ability to change colours on different parts as the user moved. It couldn´t be called anything else but a flame made silk, soon to be turned into a dress unlike anything the people in Tirion have seen.

“Those were her specifications, yes” the father talked as he moved the threads, making sure everything was alright. “Hope she uses it well, because if not…”

“She is a good politician, surely she will know when to wear it…” the son got up from his seat, glancing at the clock on the wall. “It´s late, I have to pick up the ornaments she commissioned Tyelpe before we can send it to Tirion.”

“Do it, I can finish this here. Besides, I will need you more when it´s time for the embroidery to begin. Your sister deserves the best and no one has the same ability with threads as me but you, ion nin.”

“Of course” he said before leaving the room and the manor, taking a detour from his cousin´s house to go to the principal house of the island.

It had been such a long time since he had seen Forvenien. Not more than a year, but still felt it was too long. Between all the assassins, she was the last one he couldn´t convince. No matter what he said or threat her with. She was adamant. Oh, well, if damage control was easy, someone else would do it. 

The dungeon´s guards sometimes even call him a politician for what he did, but they were mistaken. He wasn´t a politician or diplomat. That was his sister, his admirable smart sister, who knew thousands of tricks, to read people better than book and to show another face than an impassive one. He only knew one trick, one trick he always used to try and entice people to do his bidding. The carrot or the stick. His strategy was offering the carrot and hope they take them, use the stick if they don´t. There was more to being a politician than that.

But right now, right now he had to focus on the task ahead, as the doors to the dungeons open to let him inside.

“Hello, Forvenien, how are you doing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we finally have Muino, who can be scary if he wants. He has to be with all the messes his sister sends his way. Anyway, hope you liked the short fic, I will go back to Adopted now. Really, hope you liked it!! Review!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe you are asking why I wrote a son of Aegnor and Andreth like that, bu the reality is that I wrote Accarmo (which means avenger) to be one of those boys that are afraid of being in the spotlight. I mean, he is smart, but his main focuss has been surviving back in Beleriand. Not to be a hero, but a survivor, which means staying out of the spotlight, where Morgoth could target him. Maybe he will overcome that, maybe he would not, the only thing sure is that he won´t be able to impress any girl soon. What do you think? Review!!


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